all people have demons
that attempt to reduce
and conquer them

i am no different and
each morning I stand
and face my own

my demons are special
known only to me
and  tailored to know my weaknesses

where the knife cuts
where a soft word wounds
and festers

sometimes they score straight to the heart
questioning not only my abilities
but the personal relationships with those i love

no one loves me
i am pitied
does he really know anything?

the fight can be subtle.
as it gnaws on the insecurities
and internal perceptions of me

the **** things make me feel alone
an alone that moves with me
hiding the people that care

do you know what it feels
to think people don’t care?
that you’re unimportant?

such are the thoughts of mine
when defenses are down
and i’m feeling weak

many times i fight the good fight
killing such thoughts
with laughter or anger

valiant or not
i do not always win
fear that they are right creep inside me

the real struggle begins
real versus imagined
a fight between selves

long fight or short
nasty or not
i come out ahead

i have to fight back
for there is to much at stake
to let them win